The Orphans of Skyrim
by JoTheGirlBro
Summary: Another war has broken out in some forgotten land of Tamriel, and an influx of orphans approaches Skyrim. Without parents, without a proper home, without anything, the citizens of Skyrim must watch over them. A mysterious woman has begun building orphanages outside every major city. Protecting herself was easy. Protecting the innocent? That's another story.
1. Chapter 1

"Gather round, children, gather round. The sooner this final story is done with, the sooner we can get some sleep. We have a long journey tomorrow, all the way up to a small place called", the priest held up a piece of parchment that had a map scrawled on it, and peered at the marks made with squinting eyes, "Whiterun."

"Whiterun?" A high pitched voice broke the silent pause among the crowd of orphans. "These damn Nords have names for everything."

"Alessandria." The priest gathered his robe up as he stood up to prevent treading it into the dirt, and swiftly strode over to the young girl, looking down upon her and frowning. "For the sake of the eight divines, you can't say such things. Do you really think a bunch of Redguards and Argonians are going to be accepted so easily? And with you running amock…"

As he uttered the last words, he turned his feet, kicking a few dead leaves as he did so, and walked back over to the log with the other guardians.

Before he could wipe the sweat from his brow and perch on the uncomfortable seat in the camp in the forest, a murmur wandered through the clearing.

"There are actually nine gods." He turned back quickly to see the outspoken little girl glancing at her dirty fingernails and grinning to herself.

After opening his mouth to punish her for such a statement in Skyrim and raising a wrinkled hand, he closed it,lowered him arm, and continued with his actions.

He shuffled on the seat to gain a more comfortable position and waited for the orphans to brush their greasy hair out of their eyes, and sit still.

"Now." The priest started removing his hood and then shot an orb of bright light to a large tree nearby. The children looked at this fine display of magic and awe. Whilst rubbing his hands together, he began:

"Our next and final tale", the children interrupted with subtle groans, "takes place in our next and final destination: Whiterun. As you will know, there is much speculation of who began the financing of the large collection of orphanages surrounding the cities of Skyrim, but nevertheless, the stories grow with each and every day.

"The most popular, the most common story, is that of the Dovahkiin."

"What's a dova…dovi…?" The children enquired.

" _Dovahkiin_ , means Dragonborn. The saviour of all of Skyrim." Alessandria's voice grew louder as she explained the legend, standing up on her thin legs amongst the rows of the small children and bringing her hand to her heart. "A brave warrior," She mimicked the actions of the soldiers of the past war, "an arch mage of the College of Windhelm," she thrust her hands as if casting spells which brought a tender smile to the priest's face, "and a dangerous lover." She swooned and fell to the ground in a fit of pretend fainting.

"Yes, Alessandria, well done." He raised his hands to silence the giggling children.

"You really are the know-it-all of Tamriel, aren't you?" He continued, chuckling as the orphans settled once again. "Alessandria, our fine actor, is correct. Well, in some cases. She fought for the Imperials in the War, apparently killing Ulfric herself with her blade… She learnt her magic at the College of Windhelm, frequently visiting the premises in times of need, as the legend follows, but stays most often in one place. Her home, Whiterun."

The children were enthralled by the introduction, and leaned in, closer and closer, desperate to hear the story.

"They say she began reforming the orphanages of Riften, but that is a story for another night. Tonight's tale is about vampires. The story follows that she stumbled upon Dawnguard by accident, ("an ancient organisation protecting us from vampires. Duh?") whilst searching for the lost weapons of an old friend which were hidden deep within an ancient Dwemer settlement. When asked to investigate an area surrounded by vampires she found a young women with none another than an Elder Scroll on her back!"

Gasps ensued from the audience.

"The details are unknown, but it is said, that she visited the realm of the Soul Cairn and defeated Lord Harkon, the father of the young girl, all after being turned into a vampire! She is apparently cured of such a lifestyle, but seeks other vampires and persuades them to her cause. She doesn't allow them to feed on innocents, no, but trains them and employs them to protect the orphanages, feasting on those that attempt to hurt the children."

As the Priest finished, the children's eyes were wide with awe. A sharp gust of wind broke the silence, and the trees rusted violently around them, disguising the sounds of the night.

The priest clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly and laughed.

"Right! Time for bed!" The Children moved quickly to their tents, looking around as if to see a vampire standing behind them, ready to pounce and drink their blood.

All but Alessandria and her group of friends went to the tents. They sat around behind their tent, giggling quietly about the tales of the evening.

"It's a bunch of old wives tales, I'm telling you. Vampires? Dwemer settlements? I've heard a better story in 'Kolb and the Dragon'. Why can't we hear gorier, scarier stories?"

Alessandria acted out being a ghost, making wooing sounds and tickling her friends who shrieked.

As she wiped a smudge of dirt off her nose and wiped her hand off on her already dirty dress, she heard a small thud and a soft moan behind her.

She turned quickly in shock to see a dead Stormcloak soldier behind her, his arms outstretched, an iron dagger clutched in a bloodied hand.

As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand covered her mouth.

After the stranger released her from their firm grip, she turned to see a cloaked figure back away and wrench a dark arrow out of the Stormcloaks calf, then scurrying up a tree, their orange eyes glowing in the darkness.

Still in awe of what they had just witnessed, their silence continued as they saw another figure, a man wearing Thalmor armour, leap down onto the body from the oak tree above them and clasp their jaw around the neck of the apparent criminal.

After drinking their blood, he searched through the various pockets of the soldier and shoved the numerous glistening objects into a sack. He threw it over his back, and after smiling at the gawping children and wiping the blood from their mouth, climbed up another tree using a bejewelled dagger as an aid.

Five minutes passed of the girls staring up at the figures in the trees in fear, until Alessandria felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Time for bed, don't you agree?" The priest said, leading the girls into their tent and looking around cautiously behind him.

The priest then wandered back to the spot the girls had sat on, smiled, and looked up to Sandrancia, whose eyes still glowed in the darkness as she sat on a branch of a tree, bow in hand

He nodded at her, and she nodded back.

As he turned around and headed back to his tent with the other priests who were currently saying their daily prayers, Sandrancia spoke in a sharp whisper.

"They know."

"Who knows? The children? They are too old to believe such tales of the Dovahkiin…" He laughed as he walked towards the tree and looked up to her.

"No. The cultists. They know." She let a piece of parchment float down in the evening breeze to him.

He caught it, and glanced at the demands for these cultists to find Sandrancia.

"We have seen such threats before, my dear. It is nothing new, you know that."

She jumped down from the tree and faced him with frustration, perhaps even desperation in her eyes.

"The last time I killed a dragon, in some forgotten city of Solsthiem, something felt different, wrong. Something _is_ wrong. I asked the historians, the mages, the owners of the damn taverns. They know the story."

She turned back to the tree and slowly climbed up the trunk.

"Not all stories are true, you know."

She turned to him with one leg hoisted up on a branch, and tossed a sheathed dagger towards him.

"But some are." She finished climbing up the tree and hid in the branches, waiting for the next attack from thieves, the beasts of the forests and whatever else had followed their path.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where are we?" A hooded figure muttered to the other similarly mysterious character to her right whilst snapping the neck of a rabbit and passing it to a volunteer of their cause.

"Another mile, my dear."

"Will they let us in?"

"Whiterun has received threats my dear, Balgruuf personally has seen attempts on his life."

"I doubt the stabbing of his son helped." She whispered, looking over her shoulder to check on the children who sat slumped and asleep on the horses donated to their cause.

"That was an isolated incident."

"The Lady in the Wall didn't shove the dagger in his thigh." She said sharply, turning her head to look at him.

"No, she didn't. But we can't afford to make assumptions. Gods know how many people don't like us." He replied in his calm tones, continuously peering over the horizon.

Silence followed. They continued to follow the path, reaching for weapons upon hearing creatures paw the dirt in the nearby forests and the groans of a giant in the distance.

A woman approached as they reached the first farms outside of Whiterun.

Sandrancia halted to horses and their guards, giving them the signal to run if needs be.

The leader of the orphans reached for her bow, and readied an arrow, walking towards the woman, peering into the darkness beneath the cloak.

"Who goes there? Shall we part with peac-"

"Or dine with death?" A voice replied.

A pair of copper eyes shone in the pale moonlight as Serena removed her hood.

"Serena, how long has it been?" Sandrancia smiled and embraced her old adventurer.

"No time for chatter, my friend, I bear news." Serena replied, touching her shoulder at arm's length.

"Did Whiterun send you?"

"The Jarl himself."

"Well?" She enquired nervously.

"The houses, for the orphans… They've been raided and… sacrifices… they're everywhere…"

"Sacrifices? Who?" She queried, lifting her eyes off of the path floor and into Serena's eyes.

"This wasn't an act of war. It was an attempt at, well, what I think was an attempt at… Oh, Sandrancia, I can't go back in there."

"What was it? Look at me," She grabbed Serena's chin and lifted it to the level of her own, "and tell me what it was."

"Symbols. Ancient symbols. In blood. Symbols of Him, the other Dragonborn."

"What does Miraak want now?"

"This was a call for vampires. We have a long standing connection with Dragonborns, and legend says we can be summoned. When desired, of course. But that is not all."

"Hmm." Sandrancia poked the ground with a toe.

"These symbols asked the vampires to turn the children. He wants an army, he wants yours."

"I don't have an army."

"Look around you, my dear," An elderly voice interjected from the silence between them.

"I don't want them to fight," Sandrancia, said turning to her companion, "I won't let them fight, they're kids for goodness sake!

"By the divines! He won't let us in? I told the Jarl he needed more protection! I offered him…"

Sandrancia paused, stroking her chin and wondering what to call the Dark Brotherhood.

"Old friends."

She took her head in her hands and thought furiously for a moment, her companions watching her with worry.

After a few minutes of pacing back and forth, her thoughts being interrupted by the hisses of vampires as they were hit by beams of dawn's sunlight, Sandrancia made her final decision.

"We will have to camp outside by a farm. I know a guy, an old friend."

"My dear," the old man said, walking up to her side, "he will not let you, you know this."

"He didn't say anything about existing outside the walls. And besides," She said pulling out a blade and checking its sharpness, testing it on her finger with a prick, "I want to do some investigation."

Sandrancia, sheathed her dagger and turned around to her band of children and guards, holding up her hands to signal orders.

"We have been forbidden from living within Whiterun, but nevertheless, we will camp outside by a farm. Guards, half of you will hunt, the other half will set up the camps. Teachers, do as you may in instructing the vitality of knowledge.

"Serena," Sandrancia said, smiling to herself, "let's have an adventure."

Several times were they stopped by guards who instructed them to leave the walls of this city and never return, but some gentle and some not so gentle remarks aided their entrance into Sandrancia's and the orphans' home.

They stood outside, daggers and magicka poised, ready for an attack.

They glanced on last time at each other, nodded, and Sandrancia kicked open the already ajar door with a pointed toe.

They entered in silence, moving at every sound, but they found nothing.

The furniture was toppled, however, and books torn apart, but one remained seemingly perfect. It was placed on the dining table, with candles light around it.

"The hell is this." Serena said as she walked past the door, seeing the light flood into the corridor.

She glanced around the dining room and walked to what seemed like an altar.

She peered down at the 'altar', looking up to see Sandrancia enter with similar caution.

"What is it?" She asked.

Serena, after sheathing weapons, wiped off the dust and the smeared stains of blood and opened the book. On every page was a scrawled symbol, but unlike one that she had seen before.

Her partner came closer and looked at the symbols, touching the ink that scarred the pages.

"Erei laat sul." A voice whispered behind her.

Sandrancia turned around to see what spoke to her. She saw nothing.

"Sandrancia?" Her shield sister enquired with concern.

"I'm fine… it was nothing…" She replied, looking around curiously.

She blew out the candles with frustration and picked up the book, ready to leave as soon as possible.

"Whoever was here, has already left their mark, but unfortunately, we can only find very little of it." 

They left in silence, leaving the house and being escorted to the camps by angry and yet fearful guards. But neither of them saw the dark figure pass behind them and leave the house.

Their work was done, and if they died now, the Soul Cairn would repay them dearly.


End file.
